


Rain

by Tragedi_origami



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 12:43:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1983456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tragedi_origami/pseuds/Tragedi_origami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rain

**Author's Note:**

> I created this before chapter 95 was released.  
> Thousands apologize for any grammatical errors—English isn't my mother language. But I do hope you enjoy this fic. :)

**Kuroshitsuji © Toboso Yana**

**I do not own anything.**

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**AU/Light Angst, based from chapter 93**

**Focused on Ciel’s thoughts.**

**Enjoy reading~**

**~~~~**

 

The sun is hiding behind the massive dark clouds—no light to be seen. The wind has turned cold in mere minutes, dancing around with the grasses—making a quite nice view amidst the dark atmosphere. It sings, giving a peaceful feeling for every living organism nearby. A beautiful spark of lightning decorates the sky for a brief second— _and then the sky starts to cry_.

 

—A boy inside the castle’s thinking about his life.

 

The trauma has the good of him—he doesn’t remember what’s he doing, and he _can’t_ see a thing now. White isn’t the vision he sees now; black is. The last thing he remembers is his friend—the one that he’s been with when everything goes down— _the one that lasts until he died_. And pitifully, the darkness that has saved him three years ago now betrays him; it has turned its back to him, like God— _who doesn’t even exist—_ did to him. No, _He_ has _given up_ on him.

 

As the wind gets colder, raindrops start to make their way down on the window; creating traces of abstract waterlines. The boy inside the tangled sheets grips the blanket tightly, as if he’s in an agony. His uneasiness makes his heart thumps abruptly in his chest—even to the point he’s going to vomit, and the sky and wind’s duet only worsen it more. He can’t even smile—how can he show a true happiness if the sky is _crying_?

 

He starts to scowl, he wants the sky to be happy—at least be happy, _for him, right now_. For a moment, he hates the sky. He blames the sky for its false embrace.

 

He gritted his teeth, and eventually chews his quivering bottom lip. With this dimly light room and soft melody of the rain, memories come flooding back and strike him like a truck— _it hurts_.

 

Everything’s too late; he’s gotten into a check, even his knight cannot do anything about it. The Heaven’s gate’s been closed for _him_. There’s no more light for _him—_ darkness has a complete control over him. His pawns had turned their back to him; leaving him behind. _Alone, regretful,_ and _scared._

 

Maybe this is his karma for messing around with darkness for too long? No one knows, and he doesn’t expect a _so-called-_ God to know, and he already knows his parents won’t forgive him for what he did but he knows his parents _still_ love him.

_…Right?_

 

He doubted his second statement. He wants to apologize, but to whom is he going to apologize? His parents are already dead—and so his aunt, and God has forsaken him— _or that’s what he thought._

 

Then how about apologizing to his trusted right-hand?

 

His knight. His butler. His lifesaver. His _demon. His only friend who’s still being with him, until this very second._

He feels his eyes burn. Queue of statements fill him up like a tidal wave— _sorry_ and _thanks_. Two words that’ll be so hard to come out from a snob like him.

 

He wants to apologize and thank his crow for everything, but he couldn’t.

He wants to apologize for being such a spoiled brat, but he couldn’t.

He wants to thank him for being his caretaker for this past three years, but he couldn’t.

He wants to tell him that he’s afraid, _but he couldn’t_.

_He wants to tell him that he regrets his decision, but he couldn’t._

He knows he can’t do that because _he’_ ll mock him to no end, especially the last statement—he’ll surely become enraged, and who knows what’ll happen next.

 

Another spark of lightning branch colors the dark sky.

 

He chokes, and uncountable beads of tear start to make their way down his cheeks like a waterfall—a heavy one. He blinks, but he can’t see a thing. He inhales, but oxygen avoids him, his lungs refuse anymore coming air—it’s hard to breathe.

 

**_Game Over._ **

He slightly thanks to the sky, and starts to _sing_ along.

 

_—The sky is still crying._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I really appreciate it. Have a nice day :)


End file.
